Saving Jade
by Puddytangel
Summary: This is the 3rd in The Dark Girl series. It contains a lot of swearing but I was trying to make it realistic. Also some mysteries are finally solved in this one. Its dark, but i think i've finally got some good and original images happening. please R&R!


Lets see now

Lets see now.

It's been four and a half months now. Four and a half months I've lived at Wayne manor. You think I would have gotten used to it by now, but I guess it's just too different from the streets. I've put on a bit of weight now, but my hair has barely grown a millimetre. I can no longer suspend myself by my ribcage from the monkey bars at my new school. At first all the other kids thoughts it was cool – me sticking a bar under my ribs and letting go with my hands, but then others started trying to do it and they stopped eating. I told them it wasn't worth it and it hurt like hell. I didn't want to be responsible for broken ribs or damaged organs, so I stopped doing it. Also, I got into trouble with the teachers.

That's my school. I'm always in trouble. The teachers don't like me. I guess its because when I'm away from Alfred my language goes back down the drain. Also, the teachers know where I'm from. I'm just another lost cause adopted by Bruce Wayne. Dick and me are pretty much the only ones in the school whose biological parents aren't rich – I guess they reckon we lack breeding.

I hate school.

So when I woke up to my second week of school I was needless to say, reluctant to leave bed. Then in came Alfred. If you messed with him you'd be eating boiled cabbage for every meal until you apologized. He didn't have breakfast, but he did have my school uniform. If you could call it a school uniform; it was a long red tartan dress, navy stockings and a lacy white blouse to go over the top. It was a bit cold out so Alfred had also bought me the windcheater. It was pink. Need I say more?

Alfred deprived me off my sheets – he plans washing day so that we can't hide in bed on Mondays. Even Bruce doesn't escape his wrath – but Bruce gets a triple espresso every morning. Alfred says I'm too young for coffee. I'm eleven. Coffee isn't going to kill me. I've had worse at school, but Alfred doesn't know about that. The only good thing about school is I have a mate.

I made this friend – her name's Mattie. After my first PE lesson (the stupid teacher wouldn't let me off, even though I looked half dead) I ended up coughing up half a kilo of muck. At least there was no blood in it. Anyway, Mattie was fielding nearby (we were playing softball), and she noticed I looked pretty ill. She came over and asked if I was okay.

"'m fine, give me a min"

"That teacher- Mr. Letlone is a right pk. Here, have a drink."

She gave me her water bottle.

"I'm not gonna play anymore. I'm goin' for a walk, you wanna come?"

It beat standing around.

"Won't Letlone bust your keister?" I asked

"Nuh. My mum 'n' the prince has got an arrangement."

"What?"

"My mum and the principal. She's in bed with him."

"Oh."

"I call him the prince 'cause he's an absolute tr - you know Machiavellian 'n' everything. I'm not calling him headmaster after the noises that come from my mum's room, cause of the head bit."

"Bugger."

"No thanks. Do I make you scared – talking about my mum being a st when I don't know you?"

"A little. You must hate her." god was I off balanced. Probably Mattie's intention.

"That's the thing. I don't. I just hate the men. She'll sleep with anyone – and everyone in the school knows it. I don't even know who my real dad is. But I don't hate her."

I nodded. That I could understand. I could understand that real well – people get eaten by their monsters.

"Huh, look at me. I don't even know your name and I'm pissin' my problems all over you."

"Don't worry. I wont tell."

"Everyone knows anyway. Tell all you want. What is ya name?"

"Jade. My name's Jade Smith."

"I'm Madeline, but you'd better call me Mattie. I hate Madeline."

"Suppose you hate the cartoon?"

"Yeah. Its st."

"Yep. Give me a healthy dose of MASH after school any day."

"Huh? Oh yeah, that one about the Korean War. With the funny surgeon."

"Yep."

"I like that one too, but I don't watch it much. I usually go out somewhere."

"Where?"

"Anywhere."

"You're not scared of getting mugged or raped or murdered?"

"Picture this – I'm not in my school uniform – the turd that it is. I'm wearing all black and a pair of really big Doc Martin boots. I've got an ornamental dagger strapped to my sleeve between my men's watch and my spiked bracelet and I'm wearing a dog collar with studs on it so long you'd sooner kiss a cactus than me. Do you think I'd make a good target?"

"Good point."

"I look like goddamn Alice Cooper but I'm safe to do whatever the hell I want."

"mmm."

"Are you monosyllabic? Come on. Give us some goss 'bout yourself."

"Not much to tell."

"oh c'mon. Don't be embarrassed. There isn't a thing on earth you could say that I'd tease you 'bout. Promise. I mean, look at me. I'm a loser."

"Your not a loser."

Mattie ignored that.

"C'mon. say something"

"Kay. I live with this kid called Dick, don't snigger," Mattie sniggered anyway "and my guardian – Bruce, and Alfred."

"So you're the only girl. Must be rough."

"Not really. I'm not a really girly girl."

"Same. Though you've probably known since you laid eyes on me. So what else?"

"Well, Dick's real nice, he goes to this school. He bums around with me after school and watches videos."

"What happened to your family? Or are they y'know… oh sorry. Shouldn't have asked."

"Nah. Its all good. My mum left us when I was little and then we eventually moved over here and … I dunno. We ended up split up. I ended up on the streets of Gotham robbing condom vending machines for income. Ended up attempting to rob a tobacconist's in the end. Got caught. Got sent to a kids home and got adopted by Bruce Wayne."

"Yikes. Rough. Hang on - Bruce Wayne – that rich guy?"

"Yep. Pretty much sums him up."

We walked off of the field and up into the school.

Mattie said to come into the loo with her.

She moved one of the roof panels above the toilet and took out a cardboard box from the roof – A stash.

In it was a bunch of bottles and a huge bar of chocolate.

"Come on. Lets get out of here. I know a nice café where we can sit – my mum did the owner of that too. He won't rat on us."

I didn't really have any qualms about wagging sport.

We settled in at a booth in the café. Mattie got the waiter to bring us some shot glasses. She poured me one from a bottle.

"Don't worry. Its not moonshine. Not even alcohol – I save that for parties. But this stuff is good."

I looked at the glass. It looked like some form of carbonated champagne, but it was thick as syrup.

"What is it?"

"Red bull concentrate."

"You're kidding?"

"Try some. Its good." She sculled hers.

So I did. It was sweet – sickly sweet – like sorbet or medicine. And the bubbles were going up my nose to the point it stung.

"Tastes awful." I said

"Your not meant to taste it. You're meant to chug it."

"Then what's the point?"

"Its like twenty percent caffeine or something. You drink the whole bottle of it and we'd be peeling you off the ceiling with a spatula."

"So its like a drug."

"Yeah. But legal – in this country anyway."

"Isn't it a bit stupid then."

"No. This is probably no worse for you than those kids birthday parties where you drunk a litre of cola and ate a kilo of chocolate – you just get more effects."

"You sure?"

"Unless you're a diabetic – in which case, you'd be dead by now – it's just like a junk food binge."

I was starting to feel the effects of a shot glass of red bull syrup. I felt hyper – like I'd been laughing for an hour. I felt energized.

"You're looking perky already." Said Mattie. Obviously this stuff worked.

We sat and ate chocolate and browsed magazines and occasionally had another shot of red bull. We just sat in the booth laughing at something stupid and drawing moustaches on the politicians in the newspapers.

That was how we spent the afternoon until sport was over. Normal stuff.

Then we headed back. Our English and Math teachers were female, so Mattie's mum had no leverage on them.

But that was okay. School didn't suck as much anymore.

After school I met up with Dick on the way out to the car park. Dick gets bullied a lot by the other boys so I try and stick with him and protect him whenever I can. I get bullied too because of my shaved hair and background, but its different for boys – they seem to get beaten more. Today he had a huge bruise on his wrist. But he pulled the sleeve of his windcheater down as soon as he saw me looking. He was lucky. His windcheater was blue.

"Don't tell Bruce, okay?" he begged.

"Wouldn't dream of it." I reassured him

"But if they keep giving you troubles, I'll handle them."

"They all done martial arts and stuff though. They'll kick your ass."

"Yeah. But doing martial arts in some school 'cause your rich parents are scared you'll get kidnapped is bit different than the stuff I know."

"You can fight?"

"I've lived on and off the streets for about three years - In New York, Gotham and Berlin. And in slums in Dublin and Glasgow afore that. I've had my share of scraps."

Dick nodded. He was all subdued. He always was when they'd been bullying him. I knew the feeling. If I caught those boys at it, they were dead men. Dick opted for a change of subject.

"I saw you walking off the school grounds. Did you skip school?" He asked.

"Yeah. But only PE, which I'm not up to yet anyway." I lied, but it was only a little one.

"How're you gonna take down those guys if you can't even do sport?"

I chuckled.

"Those guys haven't learnt the tricks of dirty fighting yet."

Dick smirked.

"You'll have to teach me."

"If you want." If Bruce wasn't already.

We'd reached the limousine where Alfred was holding open the door for us and waiting to take our bags.

I spotted Mattie walking across the car park – she was already in her punk get up. I waved to her – she saluted back then span around and gave the teachers the finger.

Then we headed home.

* * *

Bruce sat in front of the crays in the cave. He was quite bored. No one had escaped from Arkham and he'd just solved the case of money going missing from a department of his company. He should have felt satisfied, but he didn't. It was one of those days that no matter what he did it never seemed enough. It was like waiting for the thunder after lightning – the absolute sucking calm that made the thunder seem so much louder.

He went and worked out his frustration on his boxing bag, but it was too soft – it didn't feel like hitting someone. He had a trick for that. He strapped a piece of soft wood to the back and punched it. It felt like he was punching bone and like bone, it snapped.

He head butted the bag in frustration. Why was he so worked up? He was acting like an animal. He decided to stay downstairs for the night. The last thing he needed was to subject Dick and Alfred to this. Oh yeah, and Jade would make him lose his temper.

He pounded the bag a couple more times.

After an hour or so he heard Dick trotting down the stairs into the cave.

"Go away Dick."

"I just wanted to use the gym."

Bruce reeled his temper in a bit.

"Okay then." He mumbled

"You okay?"

"I don't want to talk. Just do your workout like a good kid."

Dick looked at his feet. Bruce was pissed about something. Probably him. Seemed everyone was pissed at him today, hence his bruises.

He went to the high bars and started warming up. This was something he could do. He'd been doing gymnastics since he could walk. And it didn't piss people off.

* * *

I looked around the gym. It didn't look like it was used very much – there were no wear and tear marks on any of the equipment. But there were three boxing bags. There was a short one, one of those little teardrop ones used for speed punching and a full length one that was probably best suited to practicing rugby tackles.

I couldn't do much because I was still sick – but I did want to give the kids bullying Dick something to think about. I'd come prepared.

I taped thick corrugated cardboard to the bag. That way I could see how much damage my attacks were doing.

I started by using my shin. Your shin is an extremely hard bone. It's also reasonably close to the surface so your hitting your opponent with something hard – not the muscle on top. It's easy to bruise your shin but it doesn't effect how you would use your leg – it's just a surface wound. I liked using my shin.

I started slowly. Dropping low and holding my leg out straight, then twisting to kick the bag, then switching legs. Then I practiced it speeding up each time until I was fast enough that I wouldn't take a major hit. I studied my position – Where were my weak spots? How could I dodge most effectively?

I kept doing it until I'd mashed that section of corrugated cardboard flat. Then I took a break to let my lungs recover.

Then I started my jab work.

My mum was a nurse so I know a bit about the body. The important thing is where the nerves are located. The back of the knees is vulnerable to sharp objects – if you don't have a stick or a knife then jabbing it with your thumb will probably render the leg useless for a short time (after all, I was just going for instantaneous pain, not grievous bodily harm.) The same applies to the other main hinge joints – the elbows – but they are usually better protected. However the outside of the elbow also has a vulnerable nerve – it's just harder to find in a hurry. Next were the armpits. The auxiliary nerve is quite vulnerable there and if you can jab it hard enough and accurately you can actually cause your opponent to black out – that's a neat little ninjitsu trick.

Then of course there are the basic principles - my brother taught me them – the weak spots on any person are the head, diaphragm and groin. Where ever the head goes the body follows as it contains all sensory apparatus. The sensory apparatus on a human is located mainly on the face so you are best off approaching from behind and avoiding becoming tangled in the person's arms or legs. You also have to keep them off balance so they don't regain enough sense to flip you by suddenly jerking their back. Also, never stick your head near the back of their head – they'll just head butt you and break your nose. Cover their eyes.

I practiced all these things, being careful to transfer the impact of my jabs to my arm and not into the joints of my thumb or fingers. I kept going – doubling over the cardboard then punching a hole in it with my thumb.

So far I'd only practiced what I knew of martial arts. Now came the dirty stuff.

The easiest thing to remember about fighting dirty is that if his hands are level with your throat your mouth is level with his groin. Luckily, I've never had to actually do more than head butt the guy there before they let go. The kisses were next – the liver pool and Glasgow. Then the wonderful art of driving your knee into someone's mouth and knocking out all their teeth. Then the crunching of the small bones in the hands and feet – I just did that for fun.

I took another break. I was getting too pumped. I wasn't going to hurt these kids – they were nine year olds for god's sake! They were just being stupid. I might just grab one, jab him and hold him hostage to his friends while we had little chat about what happens to people that hurt or tease Dick Grayson.

Then I decided I was getting cocky. I tore the cardboard off of the boxing bag and collected my drink bottle before hitting the showers and settling down for homework.

I met Alfred at the doorway to the gym. Don't ask how he found me – but he had a glass of ice water and a towel with him. There was also an inhaler on the silver tray, but, with some satisfaction, I realized didn't need it. Alfred seems to think of everything.

"Dinner will be served in an hour, Miss Jade."

"Thank you Alfred." Some of his old fashioned English grammar had rubbed of on me – my brain now had a "dealing with Alfred" mode. Swearing to sweet schoolgirl in 0.5 seconds. I was getting better at this.

It wasn't until I was halfway through my shower that I realized Alfred must have been watching me. Knowing that Bruce was Batman, I wondered if he was giving me marks out of ten.

I dressed in my PJs, took a look at my homework and then decided I just didn't have the motivation. I sat and channel flicked but there was nothing on. Outside a thunderstorm was brewing. It would be nice to watch. I went downstairs to the kitchen, hoping Alfred wasn't there. He was. I tried to make myself a hot chocolate but he insisted on doing it for me. He makes good hot chocolate so it was okay in the end. I sat out under the eaves on the ground floor watching the clouds darken. Alfred tried to make me put on a dressing gown and slippers but I wouldn't. I liked feeling the chill. I liked watching the clouds and the lightning and feeling tiny compared to it all.

I remember storms like this before. When I was really little we lived in Australia in a large town on the southeast coast. There were always thunderstorms there. We used to all sit shivering on our stoop, watching with a cup of hot chocolate. All four of us – a family – sitting and watching the rain clouds til we started to turn blue. Then we went back inside and curled up in mum and dad's bed and slept together in the warm while outside the world seemed to be ending. Sometimes it was. The next morning the beach was always covered in dead or dying birds. My brother, Isaac used to cry about them. Mum buried them in the sand. Dad wrapped the injured ones that might recover in towels and dropped them anonymously at the vets. I helped him – I had a knack for finding them. Mum and dad never let me know what he did with the ones that were too badly hurt. Isaac was the only one that would tell me. I cried, so did he. But then I realized it didn't make dad a bad man. It made him a brave man. It must hurt so much to kill another living thing, even when you know it's the right thing to do. But not for everyone. Some people are evil or crazy and they don't know what they're doing.

My wrist twinged. I shivered.

Suddenly the thunderstorm seemed too big to be out alone in. I was cold.

I went inside and sat down. My hot chocolate was cold. I reheated it in the microwave. As I leaned over to get it out I heard movement.

I turned and looked up. There were breath marks on the kitchen window. Someone was outside. There was a handprint next to it as well.

I dropped the hot chocolate in the sink and ran. There had to be a reason Alfred wasn't in the kitchen or discreetly watching over me.

I ran up the stairs, not bothering turning on the lights having learnt my way off by heart. I checked Dick's room. He wasn't in. The bed hadn't been slept in. That meant he'd either been taken before he went to bed or he was with Bruce begging to become Batboy.

Alfred might be with them, I thought hopefully. I heard a window smash downstairs.

No alarms went off. I tried the lights. Nothing. No electricity – my clock radio was off.

Oh god oh god oh god. It's him isn't it? He's found me.

I tried to keep the thoughts under control. Deep breathes. Think clear.

Weapon. Need weapon. Lamp. Standing lamp. Unplug, snap off top – instant weapon. I was more at home with Glasgow daggers (broken bottles) than poles, but anything was a weapon.

Next – people – enemies and allies. Where were they? Enemies first so you don't lead them to your allies.

Oh god, don't let it be him. Please.

If it was, he'd make me watch as he - heck, he'd make me do it. God no. Please!

Okay. Enemies were probably still downstairs. I was on the third level – they mightn't know that. Friends – Dick usually went into the study and didn't come out when he disappeared – but only when Bruce was already missing – therefore, hidden entrance to cave must be in there.

I snuck into the study. I locked and barricaded the door. I closed the window curtains. I curled up under the big mahogany desk and tried to stop shivering. This was no use. I couldn't think of anywhere to search. Wherever the entrance to Batman's hide out was, I wasn't going to find it in a hurry. He was too smart for that.

I heard whistling drifting in from outside. Doors where being slammed open.

"Little Bitch. I'm gonna find you!" came a singsong voice.

I'd heard that voice before. It was him. I heard his voice on the phone once when he was killing my mother's friend. She wouldn't stop screaming. Then she stopped. And he started laughing and telling me what he'd done to her. In detail. And for some reason I couldn't put the phone down. But this time would be different. God! please let it be different!

My hands clamped on the pole. It collapsed under my hand. It wasn't strong enough. I wasn't strong enough. I looked around desperately. There was a grandfather's clock. It had a pendulum. A big, heavy, brass pendulum. I smashed the glass case with my fist. I could hear him beating on the door. My wrist was bleeding along the ring of scar tissue. Ironic.

I grabbed the pendulum and tugged. It wouldn't give. I tugged again. It tolled.

Dong.

If I pulled the pendulum hard enough it tolled. I pulled it again and again – I cut my wrist to ribbons on the glass but I kept pulling.

DONG.

The sound was getting louder. That wasn't right – my pulls were getting weaker – I was exhausted. I heard the barricade behind me give way and the door burst open.

DONG!

I was too tired – I looked down at the ground. The carpet was bleeding. No. That couldn't be right, could it?

Dong.

Then the carpet bled black.

* * *

When I woke up I was in a bed. It wasn't my bed. According to many people old enough to get legally pissed– this is a very bad sign. Luckily I was alone in it. It was a really big bed – a king sized double. I could roll over twice to either side and not fall off. It was really soft. I smiled. I could stay here.

Apparently though, this was not what someone else wanted.

"Alfred! She's awake! She's awake!" It was Dick. He bounced onto the bed.

"Hey! Good morning! How are you? You feeling better? You look better –"

"Dick, ugh, chill."

"Oh yeah, you just woke up. You snore, did you know that? Really loud too, and you drooled in your sleep and –"

"Ooargh. Shut up." I covered my face with a pillow.

"aw. But your awake and-"

"Master Dick."

I didn't need to remove the pillow to know it was Alfred.

"Miss Jade is tired. She needs to rest. And seeing as you were up all night I daresay you do too."

"But Al-"

"Bed. Now. Or I'll pack you brussel sprouts for lunch."

"You could make even them taste good, Al, c'mon"

"I am flattered, but not foolish enough to succumb to puppy dog eyes and angel voices. Bed. Final time or you make your own breakfasts."

Dick walked of grumbling.

"Is that what I have to do to make my own hot chocolate?" I cheeked

"What, dear lady, is wrong with my hot chocolate?"

"You cook it in a saucepan. And add stuff. Its too good."

"How can it be too good?" asked Alfred.

He brought out a number of bandages – what were they for?

He grabbed my right wrist. I tried to pull away but it stung. No. No. Please. I pulled harder.

"Miss Jade! Stop It!"

No. I didn't want anyone touching it. No one. Don't. Please don't. Mum. Please. No!

The knife flashed. The blood spilt. I could feel its sticky warmth running down my face. I could hear the screams. I could hear my dad running down the hall. No. God No!

Something slapped me on the face.

"Miss Jade!"

I snapped back. My cheek was stinging. Had Alfred just hit me? He'd given up on my wrist that was spilling blood – oh god – and was trying to get me to calm down.

I was hyperventilating. Small breathe in - deep breathe out – small breath in - deep breath out.

I started to breathe again. My head stopped spinning. I was shaking like a leaf.

"Are you okay?"

I tried to say yes but I couldn't speak. My throat was all tight. I just gulped and nodded.

"Miss Jade, give me your arm, please."

I shook my head. No.

"Please miss Jade."

He reached for my arm. No. No one was touching me. No one.

"Let me help you. It won't hurt I promise."

I flinched. Did Alfred know what those words meant to me? The words and the knife and the wrist. The blood. The eyes - those were so scary, so dark. The voice of a child whispered from my mother lips.

"It won't hurt. I promise."

But it did. It always would.

I fought Alfred as he tried to grab my arm. No. No, no. No more. Please. No more.

"Master Bruce!" called Alfred

I rolled over so I didn't have to look at Alfred. So I could hide my bleeding arm beneath me. I buried my face in a pillow so no one could see. My face was wet again.

After a while I heard Bruce come up into the room.

"What's wrong?"

"She ripped her stitches. She won't let me fix them."

Bruce sighed.

"Do as your told. Jade."

"Fk you. No more."

"Don't you dare speak to me that way!"

Bruce tried to grab me then too.

I buried myself in a ball, biting and kicking and hitting anything I could. I kept fighting but they were too strong. And the blood. It was spilling on me. Mum was cutting me.

"No! Mummy no! You mustn't! No! No! Please mummy don't!" I was screaming it.

I could feel the knife in me. I could feel it cutting my flesh. I could feel the nerves firing as it sliced. I could feel the warm liquid leaving my arm and I could see the scary eyes as they blinked as the blood splattered them.

It was over. It was hurting too much too fight.

"I've got her."

Bruce must have sat on the bed next to me because the mattress tilted.

I felt his hands grabbing me and pulling me so I began to kick again. No more. No more. Enough. But they were stronger. I was going to be sick. My stomach was all wrong.

Bruce and Alfred bent my knees so I was kneeling in Bruce lap and pinned down by one of his legs. Bruce held my good wrist behind me in a half nelson.

No. Please. God no. No more pain. No more. I don't know you people. Let me go.

I screamed.

"Let me go!"

I heard Bruce mumbling something. I kept my dripping eyes closed and my head bowed.

"Let me go! No more!"

I felt like a kid having a tantrum, but I didn't care. I had to fight. The fight was all that I could do. The only control.

"No more!"

"Jade. Be quiet."

"No. No more."

I struggled harder. Bruce's grip on my wrist tightened.

Bruce still had a free hand so he covered my mouth.

Oh god. What were they going to do with me? I tried to bite him but I couldn't.

"Hush, Miss Jade. You'll be alright."

"Mm mmmm." I screamed through Bruce's hand.

I opened my eyes. Don't do this. Please. Just leave me be. I tried to plead with my eyes, but though Alfred looked sympathetic it wasn't going to stop him.

Alfred gently but firmly pulled my injured arm towards him. I struggled harder than ever but Alfred was stronger than he looked. I was crying properly now.

I was shaking so much. I watched Alfred take out stitching scissors and a reel of catgut.

"Shush Jade. Shhh."

It was Bruce. He was being … weird. For him anyway.

I whimpered a little more but I couldn't move an inch.

Alfred unwrapped the white bandage from my wrist. I looked the other way.

"The stitches are torn. I'll have to replace them."

"S-sorry. Please. Don't." I mumbled through Bruce's hand

"I'll give you a local aenesthetic. You'll be fine."

I froze. I couldn't watch him prepare the needle. I closed my eyes.

"This will sting. Relax if you can." I couldn't jerk my hand away. I tried at first.

"Shhh. Be brave." Whispered Bruce

Brave. He didn't know real bravery. He knew resistance to pain and ignoring your instincts that doing something is dangerous. He didn't value his life above others. Not like me. He wasn't brave. He wasn't alone. Okay, maybe he was brave, just differently. Then I knew that this, _this_ was nothing.

I tried to keep my arm still. I hissed and felt tears burst into my eyes. I bit my lip hard to stop from crying. God, it stung.

"All done." Said Alfred and he started wiping away some of the blood.

That's what makes Alfred so easy to cope with. He doesn't ask questions. Anyone else would have asked why I tore my stitches. Not Alfred. He obviously cared because he took such pride in his job and he had a very amusing dry wit, but he didn't need words. If you didn't want to talk he wouldn't violate the boundary by asking. But you knew he could ask and that he would help. Bruce didn't ask either, but probably because he didn't like to talk or didn't care.

Alfred stayed silent while he stitched my wrist except for the occasional 'hmmm' as he tried to stitch through the tough scar tissue. When he was finished he wrapped it in a bandage.

"I've got some topical anesthetic if it starts to hurt. Don't hesitate to ask – anytime. Anything." He said the last bit pointedly, which I knew meant he was worried for me. He was itching to ask why I tore my stitches, but he wouldn't, because of the unspoken boundary. Bruce let me go, gave me a single pat on the shoulder and left. Alfred packed up, helped me change my bloodstained t-shirt and then left.

I was tired so I went back to sleep. When I woke up, Alfred was greeting me with a hot dinner.

"Whose bed is this anyway?" I asked

"Master Bruce has given you his bedroom until your room is repaired."

"Repaired? Bruce's? Yuck!"

"your room was damaged during the home invasion."

"Alfred?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"What happened?"

Alfred twitched his mustache but didn't answer.

"Bruce is batman, isn't he?" I said

Alfred, to his great credit, didn't move an inch.

"He saved me, didn't he?" I asked

"Yes." Said Alfred quietly.

There was an awkward silence.

"Thank you." I said " and thank him."

Alfred smiled

"I will do so, ma'am."

I closed my eyes.

Alfred cleared his throat. Ah. We weren't finished.

"I expect we should have a talk."

Oh. Great. Alfred had dropped the subtlety act. I didn't want to.

"Do we have t-"

"Yes. We do. Master Bruce won't always be home to hold you still."

"I'm sorry –"

"I know. You were scared."

I looked down.

"Do you want help so you're not scared?"

"I'll always be scared."

"Maybe, but we don't have to act on our fears."

"I can't help it."

"You can. It's a choice. You are responsible for your actions."

Maybe for him, but did he honestly think I wanted to see the things I did when someone grabs my wrist? Did he think I liked it? But he didn't know, he didn't know how hard I fought. And I wouldn't tell him. He wouldn't get it. He wouldn't understand. Then why did I want to tell him so much?

"Choose not to."

"I told you I couldn't help it!"

"Then I can't help you!" He seemed exasperated

I said nothing.

"You started this thing. You ripped your stitches. You obviously hate being touched. Why?"

I looked at him. Alfred is the most humble and friendly man I've ever met. If you told him a secret he would take it to the grave. He's what my friend Steve could have been if it weren't for his Valium addiction and bad mouth. You can tell him everything.

"Its just my wrist. I hate people touching it."

Alfred studied me for a minute with his intelligent eyes, and then seemingly decided to believe me.

"Just your wrist. Your not tactile defensive?"

"No. Just my wrist. Other places I don't like being touched, but I can cope with."

We sat quietly for a while.

"Has this happened before? Your wrist had scar tis-"

"Yes." I said.

Alfred said nothing.

In for a penny in for a pound.

"When I was eight my mother attempted to cut my hand off with a carving knife."

My voice was flat and emotionless. My face was slack. That voice didn't sound like mine.

Alfred was looking at me, his face in shock, which he quickly hid when I continued. My mother sounded like a monster.

"She was going to kill herself but she- she wanted to take a piece of me with her so she wasn't lonely. So we'd always be together. In body and spirit." I stared straight out past Alfred's ear.

" But she didn't. She didn't kill herself and she didn't manage to get through the bone and some tendons. They were able to reattach the rest with little damage, even the nerve. Modern technology. Ain't it great?" I tried to change the tone, but failed.

I said nothing. Alfred was looking at me with pity. I didn't want it. I wished he would stop looking at me. He must think I was abused. That she hated me.

"She wasn't evil. I don't think she was bad. Just … lost. Sick. Missing. Gone. She was gone." I said.

"She was never really there." I whispered.

I was tired. I curled up in a ball. It wasn't mum's fault. It wasn't anyones.

"She loved me. She was a good mother most of the time. She fought so hard to love, to look after us. She fought until she lost everything. She gave it all up for us, so we could escape"

I closed my eyes. I missed my mum.

Alfred tucked me in.

"Tell Bruce I know."

"Yes, Miss Jade. Goodnight."

I mumbled goodnight back.

"And thank you. For telling me."

We looked at each other for a minute before he left.

I couldn't sleep. Not really. I was wondering what had happened in the study after I had passed out. Had batman fended Him off? Did he know who He was? Was I safe? Were Dick and Alfred safe?

I pondered it until the next morning.

* * *

Bruce was, for once, not in the bat cave. He was trying to fix the house. He'd called some renovators but they'd all been booked up over the next few weeks or else intimidated by the idea of working on stately Wayne manor. So he found himself picking up the stuffing from Jade's bed and putting the unbroken furniture the right way up. The broken stuff was being placed in the hall for collection later.

He removed the broken curtain railing with a screwdriver. Jades clothes were all lying on the floor, ripped and torn. That a man had done this much damage in seconds – was truly astounding. He wondered what would have happened had Jade actually been in there. Scratched in the wall above the bedstead were the words;

"I'll be back. I'll make you watch."

He shivered.

Obviously this man was after fear. He wanted to scare Jade. He also knew her. He was someone from Jade's past. He thought back to the fact that when he'd first met her, even as batman, she had lied about her last name. Then at the hospital she had made them change it from Camden to Smith again. She was obviously trying hide from this man.

He'd been in the cave when the computer alerted him that power to the house had gone. He'd thought it was the storm. It wasn't. He heard something chime at the top of the steps. It was the clock sounding the hour. But the clock never sounded. He found it distracting so he'd had the pendulum fixed. The clock didn't even keep time. Its only purpose was as an entrance. Someone was tampering with it. Someone was trying to get into the bat cave! He slipped his cowl over his head. Luckily they were all downstairs – Alfred, Dick, Ja-

Oh Crap.

He raced up the stairs, calling to Alfred to get Dick to somewhere safe. He slammed into the back of the clock.

On the other side the impact sent a man flying. Bruce watched him crumple. He'd hit him in the back. The man hadn't seen the clock open. Bruce shut it behind him. He walked towards the stranger. But then his boot stepped on something.

Jade.

His heart almost stopped.

She was covered in blood and unconscious. The front of her PJ top was unbuttoned. There were marks.

Rage took over. This man had touched her.

He flew at him. He didn't see the man's face. He didn't see anything but someone to hit. But the man was already alerted to his charge. He jumped away at the last moment and ran for it. He went straight out the nearest window. Bruce was going to follow, but his foot slipped a little in Jade's puddle of blood. He stopped. He had more important things to deal with.

The man escaped.

He picked Jade up and quickly inspected her.

Pale and in shock. Obvious severe laceration somewhere, but where was all the blood coming from? He checked. It wasn't on her body. There were no stab wounds. Her wrist. There.

He put a tourniquet on it, opened the remains of the clock and ran downstairs. Alfred would help her.

He watched Alfred work. Dick was hanging off his hand while he stood and watched.

"Bruce?"

Dick looked up at him.

"We'll see her through, chum." He soothed.

He knelt down and picked Dick up. He didn't do this usually. In fact this might be the first time he ever had. Dick fell against his chest, his worried eyes making the bat suit wet with tears.

It was time he went to bed. But not upstairs. Not by himself. Dick shouldn't be left alone in the dark. The man was going to come back.

He carried Dick into the change room and got out some clean gym clothes.

Dick dressed in them while Bruce put on a pair of his own slacks. He put one of his huge dressing gowns around Dick. It was so big it seemed to swallow him. He picked him back up and sat down in the chair in front of the computer. He turned it so they could watch Alfred as he worked – trying to save Jade's hand whilst not loose her to blood loss and shock.

Without realizing it, he started to sing under his breath.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,

You make me happy when times are blue,

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you.

Please don't take my sunshine away."

Dick slowly fell asleep in his lap. Bruce lasted another half an hour before falling asleep too.

Alfred finished up and looked at his boys, smiling.

Jade would be fine.

* * *

It was three days later. My hand was nicely wrapped up in a bandage. Alfred didn't want me to get any further behind on schoolwork so I was back at school. Lucky thing I'm a lefty so I can still write. Joy. Notice the sarcasm?

Mattie's in my classes, on the days she turns up anyway. She spends most of her time exploring. There's a system of storm water drains that go all over the city – the entrance is just two blocks from the school. In a few days where going to go down it and see where we end up. I'm a bit scared because there's this thing called Killer Croc that's meant to hide in the sewers. Mattie says it's a myth to keep people out of there, but we might meet a few homeless fellas and if we're unlucky, a fugitive. But we'll have mace and a tazer. We've got it all planned out – we're going to leave for school next Monday and make sure everyone sees us go into school, then we just pop out the back and walk to the open part of the storm water drain. When we've finished we get a taxi or bus back to school, just in time for the bell to ring and for us to be picked up by Alfred. If were late I'll supposedly be meeting Mattie's mum. Foolproof.

I was sitting thinking about all this in math class when Mrs. Penlop asked me a question. I didn't even hear it.

"Sorry Miss. I didn't hear it."

"Then listen. What is a quotient?"

"I don't know miss."

"Its Mrs. Penlop"

"Sorry Mrs. Penlop"

"What would the quotient of this be?"

She wrote up 7 divided by 49 on the board.

"I don't know miss-us, but the answer is 7"

"That's not funny, child. Now read the first passage of page 96 of your text book to the class."

I read it out. A spitball smacked me in the face. As smoothly as I could I wiped it off my textbook and continued reading as though a wad of saliva covered paper was a common punctuation mark. Another one got stuck in my hair; I deftly removed it, all the while reading aloud, not even taking my eyes off the page.

"The importance of terms such as product and quotient is therefore vital." I finished and closed my book. How badly written was this textbook?

Mrs. Penlop looked at me.

"four eights. Product or quotient?"

"Product"

"two lots of two?"

"Product"

"nine over three?"

"nine thirds Mrs."

"Nine thirds?"

"It equates to the same thing. Nine divided by thre-"

"Very well. . Stop showing off. REOPEN your textbook and start exercise twelve."

"Yes Mrs."

Another spitball bounced off my face. I sighed.

"Psst. Playgirl."

I ignored it. Anyone who was dumb enough to think the noise "psst" wouldn't attract attention wasn't worth listening to.

"What did you have to do to Brucie to get adopted?"

I said nothing.

"You did him, didn't you?"

I said nothing. Ignore it and it goes away.

"Leave her alone." Hissed Mattie.

"Was your mum there too Mattie?."

Mattie doesn't take any bullshit. She didn't have a maths textbook, so she smacked him with the next best thing – her foot. It whistled out from under her dress. I caught a flash of buckles and spikes and metal-capped toe and then my assailant was on the ground crying. Make that better than a maths textbook

Mrs. Penlop stared at Mattie.

"Child. I know the fact is I can't discipline you with anything higher than a timeout – that if I send you to the principals office you'll come back with some kind of fetish object for your mother, But I'm hoping you are halfway decent enough to not use it. If you continue you will make yourself enemies that can't be dissuaded by a slut. Am I making myself clear? Child? Am I?"

Mattie glared. That one must have upset her.

"Crystal. Miss."

"Sit here in front of the blackboard. No movement. No lunch for you. And its Mrs."

"Yes _Miss_."

Mattie winked at me.

"Max. Get off the floor. Sit in your chair, have a drink. There's a good boy. If it still hurts in an hour go to the nurse."

I sat feeling distinctly guilty for being the cause of such a fuss.

Max leaned over and whispered in my ear;

"Is that bandage from the chains? Bet he likes it kinky, huh? Did you have a threesome with Mattie's mum?"

I turned and looked at him.

"Why are you interested in another man's sex life?" I asked with a bewildered and curious look on my face.

"So you did do him. Was he good?"

"Your just hopeful."

That one shut him up.

Until he kicked me in the gap at the back of my chair. I wanted to kick him like Mattie had done, but if I got into trouble I doubted Bruce would bail me out. I didn't have the security that Mattie did. Bruce owed me nothing.

Max kicked me again. I ignored it.

I went on trying to do my exercise in my book.

Thump.

It was actually starting to hurt.

Thump.

There was no way he was getting away with this. Everyone could see him kicking me. He'd be in trouble.

Thump.

Guess not.

I gritted my teeth. A particularly hard kick sent me forwards into the desk, which hit me in my thin tummy. I winced and tried to move my desk forwards a little. I couldn't move it though; it was screwed into the floor.

Thump. Arrgh. Same spot on my tummy.

"Mrs.!" I cried

Mrs. Penlop turned round raised an eyebrow in amusement and said quietly

"Please stop that Max."

Please stop that. After the go she'd had at Mattie and me?

Thump.

Ow.

"Stop it Max!" I hissed

"Bet you like it hard huh?"

He kicked me again, harder this time.

I plummeted into my desk again.

Nothing for it. I had to rat.

"Mrs. Penlop, can you please stop Max kicking my chair?"

"I already have told him, child. Now, if you're finished interrupting everyone else's learning?"

I sat with my mouth open, until Max kicked me again. My face hit the desk. I tasted blood. I'd just lost a tooth. It was stuck in the desk. I bit back tears. Blood dribbled down my chin.

Oh god. What the hell was with this place? No one was even looking at me except Mattie. Mrs. Penlop was pretending not to notice all the blood whenever she turned around. She was distinctly avoiding looking at me.

That was it. No one else was doing anything about it; Mattie was giving me sympathetic looks from the blackboard, but they didn't help. All of the sudden I looked around and thought; nobody here knows me. No body here cares about me. I'm alone.

It wasn't fair. I was upset so much that I was alone. I missed Steve and my family and my dead friends. And I was angry, because they were dead because of a person like Max and people like Mrs. Penlop. No one gave a st about other people in this classroom. And all of the sudden I wasn't upset. I was scared, but more importantly, Angry.

I tore around and hopped out of my chair.

Max was looking very pleased with himself. Until I lent down across his desk. His eyes moved to my non-existent cleavage for a second. Trust him to be a creep. That was what I was waiting for.

I grabbed his ears, yanked his head forwards and slammed it into the desk. Max let out a yelp and I thrust my hand in his mouth. Probably not the smartest thing to do, but I knew a trick so he couldn't bite me. I pulled my thumb up against his bottom front teeth. The harder he bit, the more my thumb pushed the teeth out of his mouth. That's a sensitive spot. Its how my brother cured me of biting when I was little – but now I have crooked front teeth from it. I dug my nail in and he whimpered. I hoped he'd need as much dentistry as I would.

"Suck on that one, Sicko!"

I let him go.

I wiped my bloody finger on my horrible pink windcheater and sat back down to work.

Except Mrs. Penlop was standing in front of my desk.

She grabbed me by the arm and dragged me from the classroom.

Way to go Jade. So much for no one gives a st. They do. Just not about you.

Mrs. Penlop was spitting.

"Expulsion. Ruined my reputation, little turd! You're out. I don't care how. You're out!"

"Miss?"

"Shut up! And it's Mrs.!"

"I left my tooth back in the classroom Mrs. Penlop."

"Shut up!"

"I need to get it put back in, Mrs. Its an adult tooth."

"Shut up you little brat!"

Then she grabbed my wrist. My right wrist, with its bandage.

"Let go." I said quickly, I could feel it coming with the bile rising in my throat.

I looked at her face. The eyes. They were wide. They were blue. They were dark and they were fear.

The knife came down, the blood spilt and I screamed. She wouldn't let go of me. Mummy No! She wouldn't let go. Mummy wouldn't let go. God no. Please not again! It came down again. No!

So I bit her. I bit her as hard as I could.

And she finally let go. Daddy would be running down the hallway by now. Mummy was curled up in a ball – catatonic. The knife was on the ground next to the bed. And the blood was everywhere. I was screaming because my wrist hurt but as I looked up I saw mummy covered in blood. I screamed harder, because mummy looked dead. Mummy had stabbed herself. I had killed Mummy. And the world went black.

My eyes snapped open. I was on the ground being held down by teachers. It was the strangest thing to wake up to. At first, for some reason, I thought they were dogs. Then I saw their faces. There was a man on top of me, my PE teacher. For a few seconds I was scared, and then I realized they were just restraining me. I swallowed. A lot of what I swallowed was blood. Oh god. I was going to puke.

"Get off! I'm gonna hurl!"

"I'm not stupi-"

I'd warned him. I think I only got it on his shirt, not him. I was more worried about not inhaling it. I was shaking and I was freezing cold all of the sudden, but that wasn't why I was shaking.

"My arm. My arm, is it bleeding? Please, is it bleeding?"

"A little. Not much. Not as bad as your teacher's. You little brat."

"My teacher's?"

"Don't play coy."

It clicked.

"Did I bite Mrs. Penlop?"

"YES!"

"Move. I gotta spit up."

I turned my head to the side and spat out more blood. I was bleeding quite a lot for one tooth. Oh yeah. My tooth.

"I left my tooth in the desk."

"Shut up!"

So I did. I was covered in blood, vomit and a creepy PE teacher who'd taken advantage of my best friend's mum. I closed my eyes. I tried to curl into a ball but I couldn't because there were people on top of me. I leaned to the side so the blood could leak out of my mouth.

"The police are on their way. So is Mr. Wayne's servant. And our lawyers. How's your arm now Edna?" That was the principal.

"Its gonna need stitches. Little bitch. And who knows what a little shit like her would be carrying. Bet she used to be a hooker too. Little street tramp."

"I'll give you one weeks leave."

"I want a month at least. Paid. And counseling. Very traumatic this. Could become one of those maniacs in Arkham. I'm suing. I want her put in jail."

"Don't push it."

I tried to steady my breathing. The last thing I wanted was to puke again.

"'M Sorry." I whispered

"You should be, you little bitch!"

"Let me go."

"No."

I wasn't going to cry in front of them, so I just spat blood instead. I got some on my PE teachers face. I watched his eyes bulge in anger. It was amusing to some vindictive part of me. He twisted my wrist, but I didn't show him that it hurt. Not at all.

"Here's her tooth. Was buried right in the wood of the table."

"Ain't you meant to put it in a glass of milk or something to keep?"

"Give it to me. I'll make sure she has a gap there for life."

"Edna. Not without talking to a lawyer. Do you know how much that tooth could cost us? Her guardian's Bruce Wayne, for Christ's sake!"

"Poor Brucie. Bet he didn't know she was such a brat. Probably thought he could change her. But she just isn't one of us."

I heard sirens. The police were here.

I heard them walk down the corridor.

"She just went crazy and bit Edna. After giving some kid a concussion and broken teeth!"

"It was completely unprovoked, officer. She's a psychopath!"

"I wanna press charges! I should get compensation for this! Ten mill, at least!"

"I understand you're all very upset with the young lady, but the only people we need right now are the victim, the suspect and whoever was first on the scene afterwards. The rest of you can leave"

"Sir, I represent this school's financial inter-" said the principal

"We will discuss this with you later."

I was let go, but I was surrounded and couldn't escape.

The policeman went to put handcuffs on me.

"No! My wrist. Don't touch it. Don't touch me!"

"You've got to come with us."

"Fine, but no cuffs. Please. I've got stitches in my wrist."

"Okay."

"Oh yes, officer, here's her tooth."

"Right. Sit down."

They sat me down.

Mrs. Penlop was giving her statement, as was my creepy PE teacher.

"What happened?"

I looked at the ground.

"I got into trouble for fighting. Mrs. Penlop was taking me to the principals office."

"And you didn't want to go, so you bit her?"

"No. It wasn't like that!"

"Then why did you bite her?"

"I don't know." I lied

"She's going to need stitches and perhaps a drain in that bite wound. It's very serious. You could have clipped her artery. Then she could be dead. She could get blood poisoning."

"I'm sorry. That's three 'could haves' in a row."

"Do you want to be a murderer?"

"No."

"Why did you bite Mrs. Penlop? Did she upset you?"

"I was scared." I whispered

The officer looked at his colleague.

I needed to cover up - to change the subject.

" I need to see Alfred, so he can fix my stitches."

"Alfred?"

"Mr. Wayne's butler."

"There's a school nurse here. She'll do it."

"No!"

"It won't take long!"

"I'll bite her too!" I hadn't meant to sound like that. I'd just wanted them to understand, but it hadn't come out right.

There was silence, all across the room. Everyone was looking at me.

"I told you she was a psychopath." someone said

"I just wanna see Alfred. Please."

The officer was glaring at me

"Trying to be cute and pathetic wont work again."

He took out his handcuffs.

"You are under arrest for the assault of Mrs. Edna Penlop and the threatened assault of your school nurse."

"And don't forget what she did to dear little Max. That was disgusting, that was!"

"And the assault of a fellow classmate." He sighed.

I was scared of the cuffs. they looked cold, harsh and kindof sharp.

Then Alfred walked through the door. Saved. Kind of.

I ran to him and hugged him.

"I wanna go home. I wanna go home. I wanna go home." I repeated in a mantra

"Miss Jade?"

I didn't respond, I just tried to simultaneously cling to him and not get blood or vomit on his suit. He didn't really know what to do.

"Miss Jade. What happened?"

I shook my head.

"Just wanna go home."

Having not received an answer from me, Alfred turned to the policeman.

"What happened?"

"Jade assaulted a teacher, a student and threatened to assault the school nurse. She's been restrained for the last hour."

Alfred looked upset

"Why'd she attack them?" he asked

"We don't know."

"'cause she's a little bitch!" shouted Mrs. Penlop "And you show her sympathy, boy."

Alfred took the comment with surprising dignity for a man who was fifty years past "boy."

"Why, Miss Jade?"

"I was scared." I whispered

"What did I tell you about being scared when I did your stitches last time?"

I shook my head.

"I didn't even know it was happening. I didn't know where I was! I tried to warn her but-" I couldn't go on. I was so ashamed.

Alfred held up my arm, noticing the fresh blood on my wrist. I struggled to pull away and he let me.

"Is that blood from your wrist, not your mouth, miss Jade?"

I nodded.

"Uh huh." Said Alfred. He turned to the officers.

"Miss Jade has a problem with these stitches. She doesn't like them to be touched."

"That's no reason to do what she did. A lot of people have sore spots they don't like to be touched on."

"Miss Jade's is not a normal sore spot. There was a traumatic incident when she was younger and ever since she won't let people touch her wrist without being physically restrained."

"How did she get her stitches in the first place then?"

"She fell through a window. We discovered the same problem then. Mr. Wayne held her down and even then she almost got away. And he's no small man. And that was after she'd lost almost a litre of blood and should have been unconscious. she doesn't even know where she is if you touch it. It took me half an hour to do what I would have done in ten minutes in the field."

"Why's she like that?"

"She prefers I don't say."

I sat and listened to the conversation, slowly becoming aware of the aches from being held down, the sting in my mouth, the bruises on my back and the blood leaking again from my wrist. As well as just how much trouble I was in. Bruce was going to kill me.

"So your saying she suffers from PTSD?"

"She hasn't been officially diagnosed, but yes."

"Well, provided you get her certified and treated, this whole thing will go away."

The officer passed Alfred my tooth.

"Come on miss Jade, lets go."

"I think I'm gonna be sick again." I hiccupped

"Can we borrow a basin for the car? Miss Jade is ill."

We got a bucket from the police officer's car. The school wouldn't give one to a_'little bitch'_ like me.

In the car I took a few deep breaths. I'd really lost the plot. My throat burned with bile as I threw up again.

"Sorry Alfred."

Alfred said nothing. He was either being very thoughtful or he was very angry. I spat up more blood into the bucket.

"Where are we going to get my tooth put back?"

"The Thompkin's clinic. They have a 24 hour dentist for emergencies."

Alfred drove us straight there, in silence.

The dentist decided that my mouth was too crowded already. Putting the tooth back wouldn't really work. Besides, it meant he wouldn't have to take it out when I got braces. He was really nice for a dentist dealing with a kid who had just been arrested for biting. Alfred drove us home.

He hadn't really said a word to me.

As we stepped into the foyer, I made an excuse about having a shower.

I turned the water up as hot as it would go. When I stepped in it burned, but in a good way. I sat down in the shower and washed my face. I washed my wrist too. Only three of the stitches were torn. They wouldn't need replacing, thank god. I didn't think I could take anymore. I picked at the wound and it hurt and bled. It felt good. Then I woke up to what I was doing. Oh god. Was I becoming my mother? A martyr that no one would ever know about, who lost everything not to survive or win a battle, but to stop hurting the people she loved?

It hit me then that I had almost done to Mrs. Penlop what my mother did to me. I'd thought I was finished with throwing up, but I was wrong.

I changed into a clean pair of PJs. The only ones around were Bruce's – all my clothes had been ruined in the attack. I had to pull the drawstring in so much the ends went down to my shins. The top was so baggy if I slipped my arms from the sleeves it fell off. I climbed into bed but after half an hour I realized I wasn't going to sleep. So I got up and walked out to the deckchairs beside the pool. I curled up on one and basked in the sunshine. I needed some sun. My skin was too pale.

I dozed for a little while.

Then Bruce came home, and boy was he mad.

I heard him having an argument with Alfred. He wasn't really angry with Alfred; he was just letting off steam so he wouldn't commit murder later. Dick was still at school so he wasn't around to hear any of it, which was a good thing. He might have learnt some new swear words.

Bruce came storming out of the house. His shadow fell over me and I opened my eyes, blinking in the sunlight.

"Eh?"

"Up." he commanded. I could imagine how unremorseful it would seem to come home from being arrested for assault to be found sunbathing by the pool.

I stretched.

"Up now!"

"Okay, okay." I was still sleepy, and in a way, (not that way!) I wanted to be punished. Because I knew what I'd done.

"Inside."

"alright already!"

He marched me into the lounge room.

"Sit."

I did.

"Don't slouch"

I sat up straighter.

"Explain."

"Explain what?"

He gave me the batman glare – the one he gave me when we first met.

"I got into a fight."

"With your teacher."

"No. That was afterwards."

"Explain!"

"She pulled at my stitches."

"I don't care."

"She wouldn't let me go back for my tooth!"

"NO EXCUSES!"

I fell silence.

"You have no respect for anyone."

"You have to respect me first." I hissed. I don't really know why. I wanted to here what he thought of me, and he was holding back for the sake of my feelings. I didn't want that.

"You're eleven."

"So?"

He glared at me.

"I'm not like Dick. I'm not the lost little kid who needs comfort. I'm the angry one." I said "And you knew that when you took me in!"

"What do you think today cost us?"

I shrugged. I hadn't really wanted to talk about that. Or think about it.

"It cost Wayne enterprises a multimillion dollar contract because I was pulled out of the merger by an irate teacher."

Ah. Money. It made me want to scream that that was the first thing that came to his mind. A little thought in my head said "see, look. You're not that bad. He's a monster. Biting your teacher is nothing compared to him." I let it control me for a minute or so in which I screamed out every impulse that came to me.

"Its not like you didn't have enough millions to go round! Oh yeah, apparently you didn't because Gotham has thirty thousand homeless – highest percentage in America! I was one of them! While you sat in your silk PJs sipping thousand-dollar wine with a siliconed botox blonde I was holding a dying baby!He resulted from a rape!His mother, my friend - his mother, had just died giving birth to him! And people, good people I know, where so hungry they cooked the placenta and ate it. I would have buried the baby but the ground was frozen over and no one would help the smelly homeless girl dig!I kept trying for an hour before I gave up. I put the body in a dumpster instead! So rich boy. Don't tell me you've lost something! You've never buried someone younger than you! You've never had no money!"

Bruce ignored the entire rant.

He continued as if I'd said nothing.

"What about Dick? Do you think it might bother him that the school'll assume he's tarred with the same brush?"

No. I hadn't thought about what it would cost Dick. Would this mean the bullies would get away with hurting him? If they weren't already. Oh no. My bad. And I wasn't the one who was going to take the fall. It didn't hurt as much as it would later.

"Do you think it didn't effect Alfred? That he wasn't upset?"

I said nothing.

"And I haven't even started on the people you actually attacked. Max Cuthbert's mother has a heart condition! Do you think it was good for her to get a phone call from the hospital emergency department? Do you think it was worth it?"

I looked at the ground. Shit. I had my hands clenched together on my lap. I dug my fingers into the wound on my wrist. It hurt. Good. And then I realized I was being ill like my mother again. NO. No more pain. Be honorable. Be good.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't work. It doesn't heal cuts and bruises. It doesn't change anything. Sorry is useless."

I said nothing. I didn't believe him. A mass murderer who wanted to die for his crimes, for how much he'd hurt people, was just the tiniest bit closer to the people he'd hurt. Then I thought about how I'd feel if _He_ said sorry. And i knew I was wrong

"I will not have violence. I will not have you attacking people. Do you understand?"

I did. But I had the feeling that Edna Penlop and Max weren't ever going to say sorry.

"I understand sir. But it wasn't all me sir."

"I don't care. You have the nerve to put it on someone else. It was your actions and your's alone. No one made you do anything! I don't care -"

"No. You don't. You care about your stupid mergers and being pulled from meetings and your precious fool "_Brucie_". And maybe you care a little for Dick and Alfred, but never enough to make a difference-no more difference than a sorry does – it means nothing– and you don't care about me even that much."

"I look after you."

"Yes. But I don't owe an asshole like you anything! You live in this amazing shithouse! I live in a cardboard box and eat moldy pigeons with a drugged up old man to care for me! And I fking buried my best friend's baby in a fking dumpster and let the sorry cts eat her!"

"You will stop swearing."

"fk you!"

Bruce grabbed my shoulders. His eyes were level with mine.

"Just because you've had it rough doesn't give you the excuse." He growled, "We've all had it rough. Dick's lost his parents. Alfred's family split years ago and my parents were murdered in front of me when I was nine. I watched them die. I heard them scream. I had their blood on my face from hugging them. You are nothing special."

I said nothing, but stared back, trying to look defiant. I could feel my eyes itching. I knew he was right. And I hated him for it. So I told him.

"I hate you." I whispered

"Then deal with it."

I tried to.

I tried to punch him in the chest, but it was like punching a brick wall. So I went for his gonads. Batman can't were a cup all the time. He recovered quickly. Stupid pain resistance training.

Smack!

Bruce smacked me on the back. Unknowingly where Max had left a huge bruise. I bit my tongue.

"You don't hit."

"And you do? Because you're bigger and better so you make the rules?!"

"I am your guardian. You have been bad. It's my job to discipline you."

"Oh, so you're allowed to hate me! Fker!"

Smack!

Same spot again. This time I cried because it heart like all fk.

"Fk you! You ugly ct!"

SMACK!

"I hate you!"

Smack!

My bruise was smarting too much to ignore anymore. And the pain I had craved before was fulfilled. I felt so disgusted that a part of me liked the pain. So it had to stop.

"St." I whispered

SMACK! My whole back burned. Was I bleeding? I felt cold. And as alone as I had in my classroom.

"Please stop hitting me!"

smack. He didn't hit me very hard that time

"See. It hurts." Said Bruce

He let me go.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"What are you going to do to fix it?"

"Say I'm sorry. Not do it again" and in my head I added hurt myself as much as I hurt them. Then I felt disgusted over the thought.

"And if that's not enough?"

"Try and help?"

"Yes. And?"

"Everything I can. Until I'm forgiven."

"Good. And?"

"Never do it again."

"Good."

I winced as I got up, pulling the pajamas off my raw back. I needed an ice pack or a hot water bottle. Bruce walked off.

I went to the toilet and washed my face. Then I tried to pee. But I couldn't. It was embarrassing. I couldn't tell Alfred – it'd be too weird having him try and help. I couldn't pee. I sat on the toilet for a while trying to pee but I couldn't. Not really. I lent back against the toilet, wincing at my back. I was too tense. I sat for a while. About an hour later I managed to pee a little. I had a huge bruise across my stomach where the desk had dug in It'd probably numbed the muscles that controlled my bladder. That and a swollen jaw, along with a newly bandaged wrist as well as my back– it just wasn't my day. I realized that it was probably dinnertime and that I hadn't eaten since breakfast.

I walked down to the dining room. Dick was there. He gave me a huge grin and got up to hug me, but Bruce and Alfred gave him a look. He sat back down. There was an uncomfortable silence. My food seemed cold and most of it was brussel sprouts – my least favorite vegetable, but it wouldn't do to complain. I had nothing to complain about. Not in this company.

I wasn't hungry all of the sudden. It'd hurt to eat with my tooth missing.

"I'm not hungry, guys –"

"You will stay until the meal is finished."

So I sat there, with the chair sticking into my back. Outside it was raining again. If I closed my eyes I could almost hear the waves of the beach. The crash of the thunder outside. The smell of the rain. I could almost feel my family crouched around me, watching the lightning together. I missed them. I missed them so much. So damn much.

Oh god, I wish they were here.

"Excuse me." I said

"Miss Jade. You will wait until the meal is finished."

I couldn't hold the tears back anymore. I kept trying to hide them by wiping them away and steadying my breathing. I kept looking up or at my lap, not looking at anyone. Dick noticed my tears. He got up and came running, ignoring Bruce and Alfred. He wrapped his arms around me. I winced as he touched my bruises, but I didn't care that much. I just held him, not looking at Bruce or Alfred because what they thought didn't matter. Not now. Just holding Dick. My little boy, the one I looked after. The smell of him – not quite old enough to have BO but not young enough to smell like a baby. Just the smell of dirt, grass and water and the things kids do – the cruelty and the strangely detached wisdom they had. And he was holding me. I had to keep him safe. But without knowing it, he was keeping me safe. But I'd never let him know just how upset I was, because if you care too much for someone his or her demons start to eat you up. And my demons were probably already seasoning Dick with salt and pepper. But if I didn't let him in, really in…

It was like having a third of my family back. It was like it was Isaac holding me, not Dick. I missed Isaac so damn much. I missed my brother.

"I'm sorry Dick."

"You don't need to be"

"I wish I was stronger. That I didn't cry. It must hurt."

"Its okay."

A hand slipped onto my shoulder.

"Perhaps you had best go to bed, miss Jade."

I didn't want to leave Dick. I shook my head.

Then an idea struck me. Dick would have a better chance at convincing Alfred and Bruce than me. So I whispered it to him.

He looked pleadingly at Alfred.

"Can we have dessert outside?"

"What?!"

"Under the pergola. On the day beds."

Alfred looked outside.

"It is cold and it is raining."

"Please? We could put the outdoor heater on?"

"What do you think, Master Bruce?"

"I don't know. I've gotta work on that mugger that got aw-"

"No." I pleaded quietly. I didn't mean for any of them to hear. But they did.

They all looked at me.

"I guess that can wait until after dessert."

It was strange. They were all being… nice.

We all sat under the pergola eating crème caramels and drinking hot cocoa. Alfred joined us too, in a rare moment of unbutler like behavior. We sat wrapped in our dressing gowns with a heater nearby. No one spoke, but we watched the storm. It lit up the strange midnight shapes above the city of Gotham. The white sparks of rain visible for the fraction of a moment against the strangely hued sky. I remembered the tiny dark warm circle of family. Everything else could die but the circle was still there, honeyed into history. I wondered if Bruce had ever had things like this. Dick almost certainly had, having grown up in a small family circus. I wonder if his parents ever put on a record and waltzed in front of him until he grew too tired and fell asleep beside a fire. I wonder if they'd ever all shared the remnants of an ice cream container in front of the TV. I wonder if they'd ever made embarrassing rude jokes in front of him about their sex life just to here him say "ew!" in that adorable way small children do. I wondered if they'd been anything like my parents. If one had touched the others thigh when they stopped at traffic lights in the car. If they'd done gardening together or cooked together or taken him swimming. I fell into a daze wondering.

"Is she asleep?'

"No. she snores really loud when she's asleep."

"You sure Dick?"

"Yes. You should've heard the noise last time! She's awake, kindof."

I decided to confirm Dick's answer.

"Did you guys ever do stuff like this with your family?" I barely opened my eyes. I snuggled down into the day bed. The question took them all aback, they didn't answer for a while.

Dick looked at the thunder.

"We used to do stuff together. My parents and me. We used to go horseriding. Sometimes we'd have picnics. That was during the holidays in Florida."

I smiled at Dick. That was just what Dick would have loved.

"Mum made scones. Dad always stole them before she could stick jam on them all. He hated jam."

I smiled and closed my eyes.

"I can see that."

Silence reigned.

Bruce surprised us all then.

"My parents used to take me on horse drawn coach rides through Robinson Park. My father used to always beg for a go at the reins. And we used to go to the movie theatre…" Bruce trailed off

"Did you get candy floss at the vendors in the park?"

"No. It was always ice cream, except for the occasional hotdog. I never could finish them, my father always had to eat the rest, or we'd feed the ducks with the bun." That seemed as much as Bruce wanted to contribute.

Alfred knew it was his turn.

"Our family used to brew wines together. Only a little bit. A few bottles a year, but we all did it – we all picked the grapes, we all juiced them, we all filled the bottles. When they were done maturing, we all drank some, even the tiny tots. There is nothing worse than a drunken toddler. Especially at Christmas when my Aunt started explaining the birds and the bees to them. I've never thought the same of turkey since."

We all chuckled.

Then the question that was itching to be said came up. I didn't want to say it, but it seemed no one else would.

"So, are we a um, family?"

We all looked around.

"Yes." Said Bruce

"Though a family of what I don't know." said Alfred.

We all chuckled.

"Vigilantes and their helpers?"

"I think we can cover all of us under the term loonies." Said Bruce

"Whose last name do we use then? Or we could hyphenate – Bruce Wayne-Pennyworth-Grayson-Camden. Say that without moving your tongue."

"Not with all the documents I have to sign." Said Bruce.

Bruce appeared to have just noticed something.

"Jade, you're wearing my pajamas."

"All mine are ruined. I don't have any clothes."

"You and Alfred and Dick can go out shopping tomorrow for clothes okay?"

"Aren't you coming?"

"If I'm not exhausted by tonight's patrol. Speaking of, its time I got moving and everyone else went to bed."

He got up to leave.

"Wait." I said

I raised my half empty mug.

"To family."

Bruce smiled a little. I'd never seen him really smile before.

He raised his mug.

"To family." We all chorused

"Thanks Bruce." I said quietly, but he was already gone.

"Time for bed you two."

"Aww, but Alfred,"

"Brush your teeth, master Dick. Then straight into bed."

Dick went up to bed, but I lingered for a moment.

"Alfred?"

"Yes, Miss Jade?"

"I'm sorry about today. I know it doesn't make any difference now. But I am. And I want…"I paused "I want to stop doing these things."

Alfred looked at me for a few minutes.

"Give me your wrist." He whispered.

I was scared. I didn't know why he was whispering. I shook my head.

"I won't hurt you. You know I wont, Jade."

I reluctantly gave him my wrist. My hand was shaking a little.

Alfred bent down and kissed the bandage on my wrist. It was strange. From any one else it would have been creepy, but not from him, because he was showing that we were family. Family trusts each other even though they hurt each other. Families don't mind kissing a person's demons.

Alfred looked at me and let my wrist go.

"You are strong, miss Jade. Even the bits that have been hurt are strong."

I looked at Alfred for a while.

"Thank you." I whispered

"You don't have to do this alone anymore."

I smiled at him. I didn't believe him. I wish I wasn't alone, but other people – they may love you to the point they'd suffer and die for you, to the point that they'd give you their liver or their heart or their only kidney- and you were still alone. Because no one else can fight for you. And in my case, everyone else dies anyway.

I said goodnight to Alfred

He was coming. And I knew I couldn't save them, so all I could do was give them the world while they were here. They didn't realize tonight was pity for dying men. They didn't realize I wanted more than anything else to give them a good last night on earth because I couldn't give them anything else. Their days are numbered. He'll come back, and he'll make me watch.


End file.
